


Turn Off Your Porcelain Face

by nevertickleasleepinggay



Series: You can pry Autistic!Tim from my cold dead hands [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Author Projecting onto Tim Drake, Autistic Janet Drake, Autistic Tim Drake, Bad Parent Jack Drake, Fluff, Gen, Good Parent Janet Drake, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mentioned Jack Drake, Not Beta Read, Overstimulation, Sensory Overload, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, Tiny Tim - Freeform, Young Tim Drake, all your faves are autistic, because I said so, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevertickleasleepinggay/pseuds/nevertickleasleepinggay
Summary: A tiny Tim gets overwhelmed during a gala. Luckily his mom understands and is a good parent (because I said so).
Relationships: Janet Drake & Tim Drake
Series: You can pry Autistic!Tim from my cold dead hands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111553
Comments: 20
Kudos: 115





	Turn Off Your Porcelain Face

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Home" by cavetown because titles are hard and I feel like that line fits Janet and Tim.
> 
> Okay so it may just be me projecting onto my favourite character but I've always seen Tim as autistic in my mind; having a special interest in Batman and Robin and the flying Graysons, using logic for emotional things, hyperfixating on cases or like the year Bruce was gone he had a very single-minded focus. Again this is just my opinion but I'm going to project onto characters and write about them being autistic because I want more representation and no one can stop me. 
> 
> This is based on my experiences with sensory overload and I've read a few fics where Tim is at a gala and overwhelmed and his parents are assholes so I decided to add a little ✨spice✨

It was too _loud._

That was all Tim could think as he felt his breathing pick up and he used his tiny seven year old height to his advantage, sneaking away from the stifling crowds and into a hallway.

He kept walking, covering his ears with his hands despite how little it did in an attempt to block out the cacophony of sound coming from the big fancy room but it was still _too much_!

Tim made his way further into the manor not caring where he was going as long as it was away from that stupid ballrom with it’s too bright lights and too strong purfeums and too many people who insisted on _touching_ him. But he was supposed to smile and wasn’t allowed to flinch or cover his ears because dad said it was “rude” and he was a big kid now and should be over such childish weaknesses. Tentatively taking his hands off his ears now that he was far enough away, Tim found himself blinking back tears as he thought what his dad would say at his weakness.

His parents were back for a whole month this time and Tim had probably gone and ruined that with his behaviour tonight. They were going to leave again as soon as this gala was over once they realized that he was still _broken_. He still hadn’t learned to manage this since their last visit when he had embarrassed them in front of a different party of people.

He had been up all night because Nightwing was in town and teaming up with Robin so he just _had_ to go out even though he usually didn’t when his parents were home. He had thought it would be fine but then the next night his parents had taken him to a gala and he was already so tired and everything was too much and he couldn’t just push through it like usual. He ended up _crying_ like a baby in the middle of the gala after someone clapped him on the back because he couldn’t handle all the noise and lights and touching anymore.

His dad had been _livid_ at being interrupted from a potential business deal because Tim couldn't keep himself together and had dragged him out of there. Literally. Tim had bruises on his arm for a week after that.

Later that night though, his mom had come into his room and she _understood_. She asked him about _why_ he had gotten so upset and it all just spilled out of Tim. He explained how it was just too much and he probably didn’t make a lot of sense but no one had ever asked _why_ he reacted like he did, they just told him not to.

He ended up talking for half an hour explaining how his clothes were just suddenly _wrong_ and the lights and noise felt like someone was stabbing his brain and when Mr. Jacobs touched him, he just snapped because it was **too much**. He explained how eye contact makes him feel like spiders are crawling down his spine but everyone always said it was rude and people got mad and told him he needed to “ _Look at me when I’m speaking you!_ ”. How it was like having an itch you aren’t allowed to scratch, not being allowed to fidget or move around and how it seems like everything that’s “polite” makes him feel uncomfortable and wrong.

He expected her to give him a lecture on how everyone else manages that just fine and he had to learn to deal with it too. Instead she said “oh Timothy...” in the softest voice he’d ever heard from her. She had looked at him almost surprised and sad and that's when he realized she wasn’t making eye contact either, and she was twisting her hands together the way he did!

Instead of a lecture on why he was bad she instead sat with him and explained that some people’s brains just work differently. She must’ve remembered how he has started messing around with computers recently cause she said that it’s like different brains run on different operating systems. Most people have Windows, but some people - like Tim - run on something more like Linux. She kept telling him that it wasn’t a bad thing and Linux is actually better than Windows in tons of ways but it works _differently_ and most people don’t understand that or know how to work with it.

At the end of it Tim was hesitantly twisting his hands together with her and his mom was smiling soft and encouraging and _loving_ in the way that was reserved just for him. She answered all his questions and told him to always come to her when everything became too overwhelming and she would take care of it. She had even _asked him_ if he was okay with a hug and waiting for his answer before touching him! But then she and dad had left the next day for Belize and Tim had months of wondering if he had just made it up, if he had imagined the way she spoke, like she had been through the same things. And besides, his dad definitely wouldn’t approve of anything she said and he didn't want them to fight because of him.

Tim sighed as he remembered that even if he wanted to tell her something was wrong instead of just running off down a random hallway, he couldn’t have because he hadn’t seen her in the crowd and he was far too overwhelmed to try and find her. 

Glancing around the hallway he was in he paused upon seeing a door mostly open to reveal a small sitting room that seemed empty. He peeked his head in and double checked that no one was in there before slipping in and looking around.

It was a fairly small sitting room, A loveseat and two chairs facing a fireplace that had floor to ceiling windows on either side of it, the other walls were lined with bookshelves and to Tim's delight one also had a cushioned seat just big enough for one set into an alcove. He ended up curled in the seat relaxing at how he could feel the walls around him knowing nothing could come up from behind and he could see the door and the entire room. He started to rock himself side to side bouncing off the walls gently and slowly he felt the adrenaline leave him and he relaxed enough that he was just exhausted and really didn’t want to return to the party.

At that moment someone stuck their head in and Tim froze, terrified he was about to get in trouble for being somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be, before he recognized that it was his mom and breathed out again slowly allowing himself to resume his rocking.

She also visibly relaxed when she spotted him and closed the door behind her before making her way over and sitting on the floor in front of the alcove. When she sat no doubt wrinkling her very expensive dress Tim felt something warm in him as he realized that she had her heels in one hand. Mother _never_ took her heels off but last time she was home Tim had made an offhand complaint about the sound of heels clicking on the floor; she must have remembered…

They continued to sit in silence for a few minutes, She started rocking in time with him almost as soon as she sat down and while from anyone else it would’ve felt like they were mocking him, with her it was nice. It’s the same feeling as walking in sync with someone, being connected, being close, and coordinating without words.

”Too much?” she asked making it sound more like a statement than a question. Tim just nodded, words were too hard right now and he knew she understood that too. She had taught him ASL since before he was able to speak and his dad often got irritated when they had their non verbal conversations where he could see, he had never learned claiming it was useless as none of them were deaf. It’s only more recently that Tim’s started wondering if she knew that words were too difficult sometimes and had helped him before he even realized.

He still hadn’t answered but she nodded as though he had and grimaced sympathetically. “Yeah me too, I’ve been trying to escape for close to an hour now but your father insisted on not leaving before the Waynes” she rolled her eyes at this and started going through her purse before pulling out a pair of… earbuds?

He cocked his head in confusion and she put them on the seat next to him and he immediately understood the second he picked them up and looked at them closer. They were noise canceling, they had little dials on the side to control the amount of noise that would be filtered out. His mother smiled gently at his enthusiastically signed _thank you_ and brushed her hair behind her ears revealing that she was wearing a matching pair.

”They’re Drake Industries prototypes,” she says as Tim puts them in, fiddling with them until the world is the right volume again.

“They’re my own design, I came up with the idea back in university, before I met your father.” Here she looks at Tim in a way that makes him feel like she can see right through him and continues in the most genuine vulnerable voice he’s ever heard her use.

“You aren’t alone in feeling overwhelmed by the world Timothy, believe me I understand. And while I may not be able to change the way the world and people work, or promise you it won’t be difficult and frustrating at times; I do promise that I'll always do whatever I can to make it easier for you. Your father doesn’t get it and I know I haven’t always been the best mother but that’s going to change soon okay?”

Tim feels himself tearing up and hesitantly signs _hug?_

His mom softens and moves to sit next to him in the alcove, wrapping him up in her arms, protecting him from the too muchness of the world and Tim positively melts. He buries his face into her neck - distantly registering that her hair smells really nice - and feeling his heart ready to burst at the overwhelming feeling of warm safe _home_.

She hums softly and they stay like that for a few minutes, mother and son rocking together gently, tucked away and hidden from the noise and the people and the expectations. Safe with each other in some small sitting room at some random socialite's house. Finally, she pulls away and smiles down at him.

“I think it’s well past time for us to leave wouldn’t you agree?”

Tim had been ready to leave the minute they arrived but dad want to stay longer than Mr. Wayne and Dick. Had they left already?

“Your father can stay as long as he so pleases,” his mom said and Tim once again swore she must be a mind reader or something. “ _We_ however are leaving. I have a cab waiting for the two of us outside.” With that she stood, reaching a hand out for him that he took without any hesitation, her touch rarely overwhelmed him. At least rarely overwhelmed him in a bad way.

She straightened her shoulders and he could literally see her walls rising again turning her from “mom” into “Janet Drake” and taking a deep breath Tim did the same thing preparing himself for the noise and lights again. She looked at him and waited for Tims's nod before leaving the room. They went the longer route, leaving through a side door to avoid the chaos of the entranceway, and walking around to the front where sure enough there was a black Mercedes with a driver waiting for them.

The driver opened the door for them and once he was behind the wheel and had confirmed their destination he put the divider screen up and Tim felt like his strings had been cut. Janet was back to _mom_ the second they were no longer able to be overheard and she let him melt into her side in a way she had never allowed outside of his room before. Running her long nails running through his hair she started humming some vaguely familiar tune and Tim felt his eyes grow heavy as he finally succumbed to the exhaustion of the evening.

In the back of a cab Janet Drake made the decision to proceed with a plan that was years in the works. As she looked down at her tiny sleeping son curled into her side she felt her resolve harden. This was _her son_ and he was done leaving him behind and allowing Jack to hurt them, she would do whatever it took to protect them. Tim the most important thing in her life and she would be damned if he lived another day not knowing how incredibly loved he was. She pushed thoughts of plans to the back burner, those were problems for tomorrow. Tonight, right now, she was just going to hold her son close and shield him away from the rest of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Please _please_ leave a comment even if its just one word, they really mean the world to me! Also definitely feel free to drop any suggestions or prompts in the comments or hmu on [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nevertickleasleepinggay)!


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